Harry Potter and the Half Baked Pie
by dumbledores beard
Summary: A parody of various scenes from HalfBlood Prince. REVIEW!
1. The Slytherin Club

Disclaimer: We own nothing at all. 

Basically a piss-take on random scenes from Half-Blood Prince. As you know by now, we don't believe in serious stories. There are spoilers, so read at your own risk.

Chapter One – The Slytherin Club

What Harry was really spying on in that compartment

"I'm glad we finally got out of there," said Neville, as they made their way back from Slughorn's compartment. "I think that man is rather strange."

"Hmmmm," said Harry, not really paying attention. He was too busy glancing ahead, still trying to get over the fact that Blaise Zabini was in fact, after many years of debate, a male.

"How come you ended up in there, Ginny," asked Neville, stroking Trevor who was sitting in his pocket.

"Well everyone suddenly thinks I'm amazing because I can produce a simple hex," said Ginny, flicking her hair. "Slughorn saw me hexing Zacharias Smith and suddenly went all gooey eyed. Next thing I know he's inviting me into his compartment. Good thing you all showed up. I swear he was going to try it on with me."

Harry suddenly had an idea. He saw Zabini slip into a compartment and thought that this would be the perfect time to do some spying. Zabini was now a male, which meant that he could possibly have Malfoy in there with him. And if they were alone, Harry couldn't bear to think of what might be going on.

Harry wasn't sure when his crush on Malfoy had started. All that he knew was that he had suddenly developed an unhealthy obsession with him, and now that Zabini was in the picture, that meant that Harry had to make sure if Malfoy was seeing him.

"Er, I'll see you guys later," he said to Ginny and Neville, and ran off before they had a chance to answer him.

Harry slipped on his beloved invisibility cloak and followed Zabini into a compartment. Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough and Zabini slid the compartment door right into Harry's foot.

Harry gritted his teeth, his heart thumping as he caught sight of Malfoy, who was throwing a confused look at the door. Harry seized the door and slammed it back, causing Zabini to fall into Goyle's lap. Crabbe immediately jumped up and pulled Zabini off Goyle, his eyes burning with jealousy. Whilst this was going on, Harry leapt up onto luggage rack.

"Get off me you fat bastard," spat Zabini, pushing Crabbe. "I don't want your bitch. He's yours."

Satisfied, Crabbe sat back down. Goyle smiled and laid his head in Crabbe's lap.

"Ohhh drakie, look at them!" shrieked Pansy. "That looks soooo romantic! Why don't you put _your_ head in _my_ lap, and I can stroke your hair!"

"Sod off Parkinson," snapped Malfoy. "I like my hair the way it is thanks. No one messes with my hair except me."

Pansy sat back, sulking. Crabbe smirked and pulled out his copy of "A Brief History of Time", Goyle's head still in his lap.

"What did Slughorn want, Zabini?" asked Malfoy.

"Well he wanted me because dad works in ASDA," said Zabini. "I think he was hoping that I could get him some free pies."

"Stupid fat walrus," sneered Malfoy. "Bet you could hardly fit into the –

_damn it, Pansy, stop trying to touch my hair!_"

"He invited Weasley's sister," said Zabini, looking bored.

"_Weasley's sister_? Why the hell would he invite her?"

"Everyone fancies her," said Pansy sulking. "You fancy her, don't you Blaise?"

"Get lost," spat Blaise. "Why the hell would I fancy someone who looks like Weasley? That's sick."

Pansy smirked and reached for Malfoy's hair again, only to have her hand slapped away.

"For the last fucking time," said Malfoy through gritted teeth. "Leave my hair alone. Do you realise how long it takes me to style it in the morning?"

"Probably about as long as it takes Goyle to string a sentence together," sneered Zabini.

Goyle guffawed.

Suddenly there was silence. Crabbe sat there reading his book whilst stroking Goyle's bristly hair, Zabini was staring out of the window, looking bored, and Malfoy was combing his hair, whilst throwing dirty looks at Pansy, who kept sneakily lifting her hand to his head.

"Anyone seen the deleted scenes on the Goblet of fire DVD yet?" asked Zabini casually.

"Don't talk to me about that film," spat Malfoy. "Firstly, I was hardly in it, Secondly I had to go down Crabbe's pants – not pretty – and thirdly, they made me wear a goddamn wig, which took me ages to get off seeing as it was glued to my head."

"What about me?" whined Pansy. "I wasn't even in it!"

"That was the best part," muttered Malfoy.

Silence again. Harry felt a sudden urge to cough, but resisted.

"So," said Pansy casually. "What does everyone want to be when they grow up? I'd like to be a singing, dancing, fairy ballerina princess!"

She squealed.

"My dad wants me to be manager of ASDA," said Zabini.

"Father wants me to be a big, bad death eater, just like him," said Malfoy. "But I'd much rather be a ferret tamer."

There was silence. Pansy coughed.

"Goyle, what about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Goyle grunted.

"A pig," translated Malfoy. Harry choked back a laugh. Malfoy stared at the luggage rack, frowning.

"What about you, Crabbe?" asked Pansy. Crabbe cleared his throat.

"As we have seen, Maxwell's equations predicted that the speed of light should be the same whatever the speed of the source, and this has been confirmed by accurate measurements. It follows from this that if a pulse of light is emitted at a particular time at a particular point in space, then as time goes on it will spread out as a sphere of light whose size and position are independent of the speed of the source. After one millionth of a second the light will have spread to form a sphere with a radius of 300 meters; after two millionths of a second, the radius will be 600 meters; and so on."

Crabbe fell silent, and continued stroking Goyle's hair. Pansy gaped at him.

Silence filled the compartment. Ten minutes passed.

"We better get changed, I can see that great Oaf in the distance," said Malfoy. Crabbe closed his book and Goyle got up. He reached up and pulled his trunk down, which whacked Harry on the head as he did so.

"YEEOOOOWWW!" bellowed Harry.

The Slytherins fell silent.

"Er, what was that?" asked Pansy. Malfoy shrugged, but his eyes were fixed on the luggage rack. A small smirk appeared on his face.

"Nevermind," he said. "You all carry on, I just need to do something."

Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle (holding hands) and Zabini left the compartment.

Malfoy looked around, then waved his wand.

"_Petrificus Totallus_!"

Before Harry knew what was happening, he was as stiff as a board, and was falling from the luggage rack.

Malfoy smirked and leaned over him.

"I thought so," he said. "That was you who screamed wasn't it?"

Harry grunted.

"You didn't hear anything I care about Potter – well, apart from the ferret tamer thing. But while I've got you here…"

Five hours later, Harry left the compartment, a huge smile plastered on his face…

A/N. Okay, that was a feeble attempt at humour. Oh and the paragraph that Crabbe reads is from Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time." Everything written in the paragraph belongs to him, not us. Thank You. Er, Review?


	2. The Bathroom Scene

Disclaimer: Nothing is ours. Chapter 2 What really happened in that bathroom 

Harry stared at the tiny dot on the marauders map, seething with anger. According to this, Malfoy was currently in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle.

That did it. No one was allowed to be alone with Malfoy in a bathroom, transparent or not.

He practically ran to the boys' bathroom, knocking over six suits of armour in the process.

He quietly opened the door and peered inside.

"Now, when exactly did this problem start? " asked Myrtle, who was sitting cross legged on a sink with a clipboard in her hand.

"Well, it all began back in fourth year after Moody turned me into a ferret," said Draco, who was lying on the bathroom floor, a cushion under his head.

"I just can't stop thinking about it. What it felt like to be one. I just keep getting these urges. The other day I bit Goyle on the leg, and I can't stop squeaking."

Myrtle scribbled on her clipboard.

"And I miss my daddy," said Draco, sniffing. "Mummy sometimes makes up stories about ferrets for me at bedtimes in the manor but daddy was so much better. He did the squeaking impressions and everything."

Draco squeaked. Myrtle scribbled.

"I feel so lonely. Crabbe and Goyle are ignoring me and are more interested in each other and Parkinson just depresses me."

Myrtle nodded.

"And I want to be a ferret tamer when I grow up but daddy wants me to be a naughty death eater just like him. Mummy says "fuck school, just go out and paarrttaayy" but I don't want to go to parties. I want to finish school and go to ferret college. I want to buy a ferret farm and live in a nice cottage in the country."

Myrtle scribbled furiously.

"And I don't like being at this school because Potty and his friends bully me. Potty always catches the snitch. I never catch the snitch. J.K. Rowling never lets me. I sent her an owl asking her to let me catch it for once but I didn't get a reply. Weasley is poor but I bet his family would let him be whatever he wants when he grows up. And Granger is a filthy mudblood but she always beats me at exams."

Suddenly Myrtle threw down the clipboard.

"Okay," she said, looking at her watch. "Time's up. Now get on this sink."

"But –"

"You heard me."

Draco got up and sat on the sink that Myrtle had been perched on. She handed him the clipboard and settled herself on the floor, placing the cushion under her head.

"Fire away then," said Draco, quill in hand.

"Well it all started when I died," began Myrtle. "I started spending all my time in a toilet and now I'm addicted. I just can't stop thinking about toilets. I was talking to the Grey Lady the other day and she was telling me I that I need to get out more, stop spending all my time in a toilet. Roam around the school a bit. Yeah like I'd ever listen to that bitch. At least I haven't got two ghosts on the go. I know for a fact that she's seeing Nearly Headless Nick _and_ Professor Binns at the same time. Still, at least she's got a man. No-one _ever_ looks at me."

Draco felt his eyelids droop a little. He shook his head furiously and scribbled on the clipboard.

"I've got a spot right on my chin," said Myrtle. "Hurts like a bitch. And Peeves The Prick has been making fun of me again. Ugly bastard. I don't know how he thinks he can call me. And I'm sick of my hair. I wish it was nice and shiny, but it's always lank and greasy – maybe it's because of the toilet water, do you think? Oh no, wait, it was like that before I died. And I think I'm too fat. I try to float around to get more exercise but I can't seem to shift it. And I don't like my glasses. I think they're – are you listening?"

Draco's head had cocked to the side a little and he had his eyes closed. He had fallen asleep. Myrtle chucked the cushion at him. Draco jerked awake as it hit him.

"W – whashappenin?" he mumbled.

"I was talking about my glasses," said Myrtle angrily. "_You're_ supposed to be listening."

"Fine, carry on."

"I was just saying about my glasses. I don't like them. I think they obscure my face too much. What do you think?"

"What?"

"About my glasses?"

"What about them?

"Do they obscure my face?"

"Er…yes?"

"So you think I should get rid of them?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Er…because they're better on than off?"

"But you said they obscure my face!"

"Exactly."

"Are you trying to say that you think it's better I keep them on because no one will see my face?"

"Well – I – "

"Do you think I'm attractive?" asked Myrtle, sitting up and staring at Draco with a very serious expression on her face.

Draco snorted and tried to turn it into a cough.

"Was that a snort?"

"What?"

"Did you snort?"

"No."

"Yes you did," said Myrtle angrily. "Do you think I'm attractive?"

"Er…"

"That means no, doesn't it? If there's an "er" then it always means no."

"I didn't say that!"

"Am I attractive then?"

"Yehno," mumbled Draco.

"What the fuck does that mean?" asked Myrtle furiously, crossing her arms.

Draco groaned.

"I can't believe you!" said Myrtle, floating up. "You agreed to these sessions! You agreed to meet me here every night! You agreed to open up to me about your problems because no-one else can be bothered to listen! You agreed to love me. To marry me. TO MAKE LOVE TO ME!"

"What the fuck?" asked Draco, getting down from the sink. "What the hell are you on? You – "

"I thought you liked me!" screamed Myrtle.

"I don't like anyone apart from ferrets," spat Draco.

"You love me, I know it!"

"No I don't!"

"Yes you do!"

"Fuck off, you stupid transparent geek."

"Ferret lover!"

"Spotty bitch!"

"Blond bastard!"

"Greasy haired, ugly miserable bitch!"

Myrtle screamed, and Draco backed off, suddenly aware of the fact that he was stuck in a toilet with a psychotic ghost.

Suddenly, Myrtle's mouth curved into a smirk.

"Poor ickle Draco, with no one to love him," she said, in a nasty babyish voice. Draco's eyes widened.

"Poor ickle Draco with no one but his ferrets to play with at night."

"You bitch!"

"Poor ickle Draco, who's – "

"Get the fuck out of here!" shouted Draco, pointing to the door.

"Get lost, it's my bathroom! You're just a stupid stuck up brat whose father is stuck in prison and mother is out sleeping with all the naughty death eaters, and probably the dark lord as well."

Draco burst into tears. He turned around and gripped the sink tightly.

That was when Harry rushed in, his wand pointed at Myrtle.

"You bitch!" he yelled.

"Hello Harry!"

"Potter?"

Draco suddenly felt sick. Potter had seen him crying. This was not good. What if it got back to his father? Lucius's voice suddenly popped into his head.

You weak little shit! How dare you embarrass the Malfoy family by crying? What have I told you, Draco? Hmmm? What did I say? Do you remember? I said that the only time that you're allowed to cry is when we run out of bleach. Running out of bleach means that we can't dye our hair and be true Malfoys. Only then will you be allowed to cry. Oh and when I die, as well. You're allowed to cry then, seeing as I'm such an important person and all…

Draco shook his head. He pointed his wand at Harry.

"You saw me cry, Potter! I'm gonna have to kill you!"

"Malfoy, wait – "

Harry rushed at Draco and slammed into him, knocking Draco's wand to the floor. A fight broke out, which included smashed sinks, toilet paper, several toilet seats and Harry's cries of "can't we all just talk about this?"

Suddenly Snape burst in, and joined in the fight.

Five minutes later, everyone was lying on the floor, cushions under their heads, surrounded by broken sinks, toilets and toilet paper.

"I have to say, Myrtle, I agree with you about the hair," said Snape, running his hands through his greasy hair. "I can't do anything with mine, either. You use toilet water to wash it, did you say?"

Myrtle nodded.

"Same here," said Snape. "Do you think that's why we have such greasy hair? Perhaps we should use tap water instead? Now, about my nose…"

"I know what you mean about the snitch," said Harry, who was having his own conversation with Draco. "To be honest, I'm pretty sick of catching it. I think I'll just go against whatever J.K. Rowling puts next time and let you get it. Ok?"

"Ok," said Draco, a smirk spreading across his face.

"Oh and Malfoy?"

"What?"

"You make a very cute ferret," said Harry, causing Draco's smirk to widen.

A/N. Review. Thanks.


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